“You really
have
read too many stories,” Crimson said, a hand over his mouth to stifle the dying giggles.
“Well what’s a troll like then?”
“They aren’t snarling huge beasts with tusks and cyclopean eyes!” Periwinkle joked, raising his arms over his head and pretending to be a monster, much to the delight of Crimson.
“Or would you prefer them to have big hairy bellies and fingernails like talons, as long as knives!”
“I’ve even heard the stories of little goblin trolls who work black magic,” Periwinkle said in a quiet voice.
“That’s not funny. Everything I’ve read says they are…”
“Ah, to the devil with your books,” Crimson said. “You are about to meet a real troll. And I wager it will be nothing like you expect.”
Phinnegan by now was growing angry at the jokes the two Faë shared at his expense. He frowned and crossed his arms over his chest.
“All right then, where is it?”
“Just over there,” Periwinkle pointed down a slight embankment to where the bridge began. “Just under the bridge.” He turned and walked toward the bridge. Crimson followed, as did the waddling little creature. Phinnegan had no choice but to bring up the rear, that or be left behind.
When they reached the edge of the bridge, Crimson headed for a rough hewn set of stairs that led down beside the bridge and then curved underneath. Phinnegan did not like the idea of going underneath the bridge, where he was still certain a monster would lurk.
“Must we go down there? Can’t it come up here?”
“Well there is one very good reason why
it
cannot, and I am certain in all of your reading you have come across it. Probably the one truth in the bunch. Now what could that be eh?”
Periwinkle stood and stroked his chin while Phinnegan struggled to come up with an answer.
“Oh, of course. Sunlight! So that bit’s true, then? They can’t come out in the sunlight or they turn to stone?”
“Yes, that bit is. And likely the only thing in that rubbish you humans thought up that was.” Periwinkle waved for Phinnegan to follow.
“Come on then, let’s get started. This could take awhile.”
Still afraid, although comforted by the fact that the troll could not chase him into the sunlight, Phinnegan shuffled behind Periwinkle, who was behind Crimson, the red-haired Faë already having gone under the bridge.
When Phinnegan reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around, he saw no troll. At least, he didn’t think that he did. What he
did
see was a most beautiful woman. He was young and not overly taken with the prettiness of girls. Yet still, he knew beauty when he saw it, and this woman was perfection in every detail.
“Where’s the troll?” Phinnegan asked.
Periwinkle smiled and nodded his head in the direction of the woman.
“She’s right there.”
Phinnegan’s eyes grew wide and he looked from the smiling face of Periwinkle to the face of the beautiful woman. He looked at Crimson, who was stifling a giggle, and then returned his gaze to the woman. And then he just stared.
Her long, straight hair was a more natural red than the ruby color of the Faë. She was tall and slender, more than a foot taller than either Faë. She wore a white dress with long sleeves that were cut tight about her arms, and then flared at the wrists. Her skin was pale, with a flush in her cheeks that offset the blue brilliance of her eyes.
Phinnegan shook with a start when she tilted her head and looked at him. Her eyes swallowed him whole and he felt that she was peering into his soul. It made him rather uncomfortable. At length she spoke, directing her statement to Crimson, who stood just beside her.
“He’s human. You know they will never let you in the castle with a human. Too dangerous.” Her lips curled in a wicked smile, her eyes still fixed on Phinnegan.
“Why don’t you just give him to me? What could two Faë and a bogle need with a human at Castle Heronhawk?” She grinned slyly in Periwinkle’s direction. “Unless you were planning to steal something.”
Phinnegan expected Periwinkle to laugh at the jest, but he remained quiet and looked to Crimson. Phinnegan found it odd that Periwinkle behaved in this manner, given that they possibly couldn’t be going to steal anything. Although, he had no idea why they were going to the castle. He wondered if the woman, no, the
troll
, could be right. Crimson’s voice distracted him from his thoughts.
“Now, now. What a horrible thing to say about two upstanding Faë such as us! Here we are just trying to show our young friend here a good time and you-“
“Well, why is he here then?” The troll strode over to Phinnegan, walking around him and putting her hand atop his head. Her touch was light and soothing.
I can’t believe that this is a troll
.
“He’s here so that we can take him to the castle.”
“No. Why is he
here
, in this world? It is against the laws of your people to bring a human into this world. Have you forgotten? What’s to keep me from capturing the lot of you and handing you over for a nice reward, hmmm?” She gave Phinnegan’s hair a playful tousle. “Except for this one of course.”
Phinnegan felt a shiver run down his spine.
“He’s here and that’s all that matters. And he is not for sale.”
She grumbled and removed her hand from Phinnegan’s head, a bit more roughly than he felt was needed.
“Well what have you brought me then?” She snarled, her sweet voice taking on a sinister tone. “Gold? Jewels? I live in a land of treasure. Your paltry riches do not interest me.”
“Nay, none of that. We come to offer you a riddle.”
“Oh! A riddle is it? Well, that’s an entirely different thing then.” The troll’s pleasant voice had returned and she looked upon the two Faë with a smile.
“I love riddles. Name your terms.” She seated herself on a large boulder just under the edge of the bridge and folded her hands across her lap, looking up expectantly at Periwinkle and Crimson.
“If we win, you agree to send us up. No strings attached.”
“Done. And for me?”
Crimson hesitated.
“For you…name your terms.”
Smiling, the troll turned to face Phinnegan.
“I want him.”
Phinnegan backpedaled away from the troll and bumped into Periwinkle who had moved around behind him.
“I should say not!” he said in the strongest voice he could muster. But he felt Periwinkle’s hands upon his shoulders, light and delicate but with unseen strength. He flashed a grin to the troll.
“Half a moment, if you please.” When she nodded, Periwinkle spun Phinnegan around to face him and looked him in the eyes.
“Listen, mate,” he spoke in a whisper. “It’s either this or you are stuck here. There’s only one way out for you and that way lies past this troll. She’s taken a liking to you and she’s dead-set on having you if she can get her way.”
“Well I’m not game. Tell her to pick another
prize.
” Periwinkle’s grip tightened on his shoulders and he could tell that the Faë was biting back his anger when he spoke.
“Look here, now, we’ve put ourselves in a bad spot. She knows you are here and she is right: you are not supposed to be. I got us out of Féradoon on a technicality, but if we are caught out here, all bets are off. She’ll turn us in if we back out now.”
“Well stop her then. We can just make a run for it across the bridge.”
Periwinkle shook his head.
“Nothing for it, mate. She’s got more magic in her little finger than me and Crimson put together. Besides, we don’t need to go across the bridge anyway.”
“Well where do we want to go then?”
Periwinkle turned Phinnegan back around and pointed to a small door that was at the base of the bridge amongst the rocks.
“That’s where we want to go. And she’ll never let us pass and we don’t have the power to muscle our way through. It’s this way or no way. Back to Féradoon, likely.”
Phinnegan didn’t like the feeling that he had been brought here without any explanation and now had no chance of turning back. He felt that they had tricked him, and now he had no choice but to submit and be the prize in some game with a troll, albeit a beautiful troll.
“I suppose I have no choice then,” he said coldly.
The purple-haired Faë shrugged as he often did, but Phinnegan saw in his eyes that he did feel some bit of guilt.
“I’m afraid not, mate.”
Phinnegan sighed and turned, pulling his shoulders from Periwinkle’s grip. He faced the troll, who sat waiting patiently, running a pearl-colored comb through her hair.
“All right,” Phinnegan said with a heavy sigh. The troll stopped combing her hair and looked at him with eager eyes, a wolfish grin upon her lips.
“So you agree, then?”
Phinnegan could only nod. Though she was indeed beautiful, he cringed at the thought of being the captive of a troll. Who knew if the men were as normal as she. He would have to remember to ask that question. If he made it away from this predicament, anyway.
“Excellent,” she cooed, clapping her hands together in her excitement. “You will be such an adorable little pet. Shall we begin?
“Yes, of course. Shall we go first or will you?”
“The honor goes to my guests, of course,” she said with a sly smile. “And I do expect you to invoke all of the formalities, of course.”
“Of…of, course. Yes, the formalities.” Crimson looked to Periwinkle, obviously oblivious to what this fair troll was talking about.
“Dear chap don’t tell me you don’t know the formalities?” Periwinkle asked with a hint of mockery. “All of your years in this world?”
“I don’t know that I’ve ever been asked,” Crimson replied, his tone betraying that he felt hurt by his lack of knowledge.
“Very well then,” Periwinkle said, stepping forward to place himself in front of the troll. “I shall begin.”
He stood for a moment in thought, either recalling a riddle or reminding himself of the formalities. At length he smiled broadly and bowed to the troll atop the rock. When he spoke at length, it was in verse.
“Riddle me this, riddle me that
I’ve a riddle for you, my fine trollish lass
Under this bridge and through yonder door
This game I propose; will you let me pass?”
The troll clapped her hands as he finished the rhyme. She wasted not a moment in response.
“Riddle me this, riddle me that
To such a request I cannot say nay
That human I demand as my winning price
Should you win this game, then pass, you may.”
Just as she finished her rhyme, Phinnegan felt a chill in the air that he had not noticed before. The others must have felt it as well for the two Faë exchanged worried looks and the bogle glared at the troll.
“Why do I suddenly feel cold?” Crimson asked, looking from Periwinkle to the troll. She smiled.